


Embers

by sunflowersailor



Series: sylvix week 2020 [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: (sorry), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Blood, Sad Ending, Sylvix Week (Fire Emblem), like rlly mild but stay mindful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:47:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26632333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowersailor/pseuds/sunflowersailor
Summary: For the sylvixweek2020 prompt: warmth.Sylvain wanted to spend time by the fire with Felix during the winter, but not like this.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Sylvain Jose Gautier, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: sylvix week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1933477
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	Embers

“We’re here, Fe.”

The soft whisper of his voice is nearly drowned out by the cold wind whipping hard against him as he takes painstakingly calculated steps forward, each step more arduous than the last as Felix grows heavier in his arms. The ground is blanketed in a light layer of powdery snow, some of which conceals icy patches. Every ounce of his concentration is focused on not slipping.

Or, it would be, if the grim reminder of his inability to protect others hadn’t been weighing him down every inch he’d traversed forward.

A small reprieve from his guilt presents itself before the murky thoughts can slither to the forefront of his mind and torture him further, as they’ve reached the crest of a hill overlooking a frozen lake. The ice covering the lake glimmers in the sunlight, casting a myriad of rainbow refractions.

In any other context, it would steal his breath away. In any other context, it would leave him speechless to witness such a phenomenon with his own eyes. 

He gently places Felix down, then sits himself next to him. Another gust of wind picks up, and Sylvain hears Felix murmur incoherently next to him.

“What was that, Felix?”

“Cold,” Felix repeats a little louder, and slowly curls into a fetal position. “‘m cold.”

“Oh. Okay, I’ll, um, I’ll be right back. Don’t move.” Sylvain says hastily, eyes darting around the area to find firewood.

“It’s fine.” Felix replies hoarsely, but Sylvain is already standing up and jogging over to a nearby tree with fallen branches decorating the ground by it.

“This won’t take more than a minute, promise.”

It can’t take more than a minute.

Not with how precious few of them Felix has left.

It’s funny just how quickly things can go from good to bad. 

Even when the war had already ended, even after Edelgard’s oppressive reign had been cut down in the singular moment she was cut down, there were still people suffering. Scarred and bruised, they’d concocted that suffering into anger, and had taken it out on others. 

Occasionally, Sylvain and Felix had run into people like this. Though it weighed tremendously on their hearts, they were always ready at a moment’s notice to strike back, to eliminate them before they were the ones eliminated. The pair were always on their guard, knowing that they had come this far and survived this much, and to die to something such as a group of bandits would be an insult to that progress.

So it’s funny, Sylvain thinks, that despite them always being ready at a moment’s notice, something has still managed to slip past. Something so simple, so frustratingly avoidable—is to be their downfall. Their ending. The severing of the fine line between life and death.

Sylvain has spent many moons wishing for a way to turn back time. He can count a hundred different points in his life where the power would’ve been useful, and none of those even hold a candle to how much he wishes it was real at this moment. 

If he were the bearer of such a power, he’d go back to before he’d asked Felix to take this walk with him and change the course of history. He’d go back and request a group of soldiers to accompany them, and Sylvain wouldn’t give a second thought to them overhearing his sappy, saccharine words of affirmation to Felix once they’d breached the hill because at least Felix could kiss him instead of having to taste the cold kiss of the winter floor. Sylvain would also go back and grab as many elixirs as he could carry, knowing it would be them against a trio of disgruntled bandits with two crazed beasts in tow. He’d go back and make sure they took a different route, or had gone somewhere else entirely, or-

There’s a deep ache set in his bones as he picks up each branch.

Being able to change everything is just a fantasy. There’s no use reflecting on the past anymore, because such a power doesn’t exist.

And because such a power doesn’t exist, because of his lack of insight, because he was so  _ weak  _ and _ pathetic _ , instead of the two of them sharing a peaceful moment for their one year wedding anniversary, Felix now lays atop the hill, soaked in blood that runs rivers down his back.

Sylvain, having gathered the firewood, hurries back to Felix’s side. He tries not to wince at the trail of crimson left behind as he’d trekked, but it’s difficult when he looks down and sees his arms are painted with it as well. All of it grips his heart in a vice—it’s a memoir to his incompetence, a memento to weaknesses. 

He couldn’t even save the one thing he held so close to him.

Setting the wood down in a pile, Sylvain uses what’s left of his mana to cast a fire spell. The blaze grows quickly, and it isn’t long before it gets big enough to emit a warm glow. Sylvain sits down next to Felix and spares a glance toward him, even though it feels like the most painful thing he’s ever had to do.

“Is that better, Fe?”

Felix nods slowly. “Thanks.”

Sylvain feels sick to his stomach as he nods back. “Of course.”

The unsaid truth hangs in the air between them, neither of them able to address it. Felix, because he’s too weak to, and Sylvain, because he’s scared if he acknowledges it aloud Felix will leave him faster. But they both know without a doubt fate is not on their side. This fact eats at Sylvain, leaves his regrets to fester and boil until the guilt overwhelms him. Because of his selfishness—everything Felix has worked for, every hardship Felix has endured, every future ambition he has—will be snuffed out.

“Sylvain… Stop,” Felix practically wheezes out, coughing a few times. “‘S not your fault.”

Sylvain’s heart pounds in his chest. Of course Felix is comforting him at a time like this without thinking of his own demise. He’s done this every time Sylvain has doubted himself. He’s made it so Sylvain understands his own worth, even when it seemed like there was no worth to speak of. And Sylvain took those times and treasured them beyond any others. He took those feelings and let them blossom into a love so strong it terrified him. But after many days and nights of harboring feelings for Felix, the warmth in his chest had slowly grown into a roaring flame, consuming every other part of his being. Today was supposed to be the day he reignited the blaze even higher than it ever had been, today was to be a reminder of their mutual love and admiration for the other.

He casts his gaze to the fire that’s currently burning beside him, then down to Felix. This fire represents something different than what he feels for Felix. This fire, that is slowly dwindling as Felix’s breathing becomes more labored, represents time.

He needs to say everything he can before the fire goes out.

“Felix, you mean so much to me. You give me the strength to live each day out to the fullest, no matter how hard it is.”

_ I don’t know what I’m going to do without you. _

“And, I’m glad I dedicated my life to you. Every part of me is yours, forever and always. Don’t forget that, okay?”

He can feel his throat close up, and his vision gets blurry for half a second before he blinks and wipes at his eyes. He can’t let himself get overwhelmed. Not now.

“Felix, I love you. I know it’s selfish of me to tell you all this now, after everything, but… fuck.”

A rush of emotions overtakes Sylvain like a flash flood, and he buries his head in his hands. Taking slow, deep breaths is the only way he can keep composed. He only has a few more minutes before the fire goes out, and he cannot afford to waste another second.

“Sylvain… shit.” Sylvain hears Felix go into another coughing fit, and raises his head just in time to see Felix reach a shaking hand out toward him. Sylvain wastes no time grabbing it and begins rubbing small circles with his thumb.

“Bastard… making me wait ‘til I’m on my deathbed to say all that sappy shit.”

And Sylvain—despite everything that’s happening, despite what’s about to happen—can’t help but let out a hollow laugh at how utterly Felix his response is. He allows himself to cling to this small sliver of happiness, just for a second. When the fire dies down, any joy he has will die with it. He won’t be able to reignite those types of emotions ever again, either.

“I know Fe, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You’ll be alright though. I’ll be with you until the end, okay?”

An awful, twisted part of him wishes he could follow Felix instead of leaving him on his own. This part reminds him of the promise they made, this part reminds him that life will never be the same. He’ll never find happiness the same way he’d found it with Felix, destined to live the rest of his life lost in a sea of his depression, drowning in waves of despair.

“You better live, Sylvain. Forget our promise. You have to live.”

Sylvain looks at the red glimmering in Felix’s navy hair, looks at the tears in his clothing from the beast’s jaws ripping through the fabric, looks at the smoke curling above them as the fire is reduced to embers. He takes this in, and comes to the harrowing realization he’s still not ready to say goodbye. It’s still too soon, there’s still a plethora of words unspoken between them. He wants to relive memories with him, wants to make sure he’s okay, wants to make sure he understands, over and over, just how much he loves him.

But there’s nothing left he can do. Nothing left but to feel as the warmth slowly disappears and becomes icy.

“I’ll live. For you, I’ll live.” It takes his entire being to keep his voice from trembling, even when his entire body is.

For a fraction of a second, a smile graces Felix’s lips. “Thank you. That makes me happy.”

The fire is reduced to mere coals now. Small, orange spots of heat cling to the wood, still crackling with all the energy they have left to give. It’s his last chance now. After this, the wood will be reduced to ashes and smoke.

“Felix?” He looks over and sees that Felix is still looking at him, but his vision seems unfocused. He has to do this right now. “Wherever you go, wait for me, okay? I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

Felix simply closes his eyes in response. Sylvain can feel the grip on his hand slowly begin to relax and Felix’s breathing gets ragged, coming out in rasps. However, it doesn’t stop all the way. Sylvain, with pain gripping his heart like a vice, gently places Felix’s hand on the ground next to him.

“It’s okay, Fe. You can let go now. I’ll be okay.”

He takes a deep breath in at the same time he hears Felix’s stop. 

_I love you_ is what he tries to say, but instead all that comes out is a choked sob.

He curls into a fetal position next to Felix, breath coming out in gasps as he softly weeps. The sun illuminates the landscape as the wind blows harshly against his back.

Perhaps in another life, he could spend a tranquil moment by a roaring fire with Felix. Perhaps they could laugh about nonsensical things, could banter about completely mundane events. Maybe next time, he’ll get it right.

Maybe next time, the warmth he would feel would heal instead of hurt.

**Author's Note:**

> damn too bad he probably wont get a next time bc reincarnation doesnt exist
> 
> ......or maybe it does? who knows!
> 
> Twitter: peachh_boy  
> Tumblr: peachh-boy
> 
> comments and kudos are always appreciated :>


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